Breaking Through
by Tigress M
Summary: Zevran learns about the tragic past of Kallian Tabris and discovers his feelings for her run far deeper than he imagined.
1. Chapter 1

Zevran watched Kallian's entire body language change as they entered the Pearl. She slipped into a defensive posture he had seen many times while traversing the countryside; as if she were expecting an ambush at any moment. He knew she was skittish around humans, especially human males, but he'd never seen her this uptight.

They were here to settle a disturbance, peacefully. But he could tell by her stance that this would end badly unless something changed. Fast.

"My dear Warden," he said, stepping close to her side but refraining from touching her – he'd almost lost a hand the last time he made that mistake. "Let us go outside for a moment. I think you would feel better there, yes?"

She glared at him defiantly before finally dipping her head in silent agreement. He turned and headed back towards the entrance. "Stay here," he whispered to the others as he held the door open for her.

Once outside, he could see the tension drain from her body, only to return with even greater force as the sound of human laughter reached her ears. Thinking quickly, he risked his hand and grabbed Kallian's arm, pulling her around the corner of the building and out of sight of the approaching patrons.

She whirled around, whipping out her dagger as she spun to face him. And then, at the sound of the voices around the corner, her whole body froze as if a Paralyze spell had been cast on her.

"Oh yes," said one of the men approaching the door. "I hope Sanga's got a knife-eared wench tonight! I've got a hankering for some of that delectable pale flesh."

"If you're wanting a knifey, why not head over to the Alienage and get some for free?" asked his companion.

"And get a blade in my back? No thank you. Not after what happened to Vaughan Kendell. They say the Alienage isn't safe for anyone now."

At the mention of the Bann's son, Kallian's face went an even paler shade of white and she swayed on her feet as if she were about to faint.

"Steady, girl. Here," he whispered, pointing to a crate, "sit down."

She mutely obeyed; her body shaking as she collapsed onto the makeshift seat.

Zevran didn't know what to make of it. He knew she was from the Alienage, but that was all he'd ever been able to find out about her past. Alistair had gotten that information from Duncan, but nothing else, except that she was an exceptional fighter.

"My friend," he said, gingerly sitting down beside her, once again mindful of her personal space. "You cannot carry this burden alone, whatever it may be."

She turned and glared at him, but said nothing, which he took as encouragement and bravely continued.

"I will be frank. Your behavior upon entering this establishment could have gotten you killed – **us** killed – had I not gotten you out of there. I do not know what causes you to react this way, but it has grown worse since we've entered Denerim and it is becoming dangerous. To us all."

Her stony stare began to crumble as the weight of his words slowly sank in. Her shoulders drooped as she hung her head. Her dagger slipped from her hand. He watched as those shoulders began to shake and then convulse, as silent sobs escaped her.

Seeing their strong leader like this was almost more than Zevran could bear. He reached for her and the hesitated, not wanting to do anything that would cause her defenses to rise and lock back in place.

"May I?" he asked, holding his arm above her shoulders, wanting to wrap her in a warm embrace.

She turned and stared at his arm hovering above her, as if it were a foreign object. And then, she nodded, almost imperceptibly but a nod it was, nonetheless.

He gently lowered his arm around her shoulders, felt a slight stiffening across her back, and heard a soft intake of breath. He sat perfectly still, his arm barely resting against her until he felt her relax. It was only then that he risked attempting to pull her to him. Another small hesitation, and then she was there, in his arms, her head lying against his shoulder.

He said nothing. Just stroked her hair and gently rocked her as he would a child. Shocked, he felt her arms slide around his waist and then the wracking sobs came harder; he could feel her tears dampening his shirt.

"You are safe," he said, never pausing in his soft rocking. "You are safe here. With me. Let it out, my dear Warden."

And so they sat until her tears were spent.

Feeling her body relax, Zevran pulled his arms away, allowing her the freedom to sit up. She did so, slowly, wiping the remnant of tears from her eyes.

"Do you want to talk?" he asked, concern evident in his tender gaze.

She said nothing for a moment, simply staring at the ground. He waited patiently, instinctively knowing this could not be rushed.

Finally she spoke, never taking her eyes from the dirt beneath their feet. "I… I was the one who killed Vaughan."

The pieces started to fall into place as Zevran recalled the words they'd overheard just a short time before. His own body went tense as he struggled with a rage that threatened to overwhelm him. "Good," he said between clenched teeth. "He deserved it. Of that I have no doubt."

Kallian turned to face him. She seemed surprised, yet gratified, by his response. "He raped my cousin, Shianni. He and his friends. They came and disrupted my wedding; taking me and a few other women back to his estate. My fiancé," she swallowed hard, forcing the words out. "My fiancé was killed trying to rescue us."

"I am sorry, my friend," he said, reaching out to take her hand in his; grateful not to feel her pull away. "Now your discomfort during out travels becomes clear."

"I know it was in the past," she said, still holding his hand. "I know those I meet are not all like the Bann's son, but it is hard to forgive them their heritage, nonetheless."

"As well it would be," he said, squeezing her hand, "for anyone in your position."

"Truly?" she asked, surprise in her voice. "You are not just saying that to make me feel better?"

"Truly," he replied, smiling down at her. "You have done remarkably well. I do not know that I could have done the same, if roles were reversed."

A slow smile spread across her face at his words of praise. He found himself captivated by that smile, as he had been since the first time he'd seen it. She was a beautiful woman, strong and fierce and proud. He could not help but wonder what it would be like to bed such a formidable woman and then chided himself for the thought – this was not the time or place for such fancies.

"We should get back," she said, standing up.

"Wait here," he replied, getting to his feet as well. "There is no need for you to do this menial task. We will take care of it and return to you momentarily."

"No!" she said, all former signs of weakness gone from her countenance. "If I allow myself to be ruled by these feelings, he has won. Do you not see?"

He nodded and prayed his quickening pulse remained undetected as he felt his admiration for this incredible woman soar to new heights. "Very well. We shall do as we planned. Together."

"Thank you, Zevran," she said, hesitating just a moment before reaching out to squeeze his hand. "For everything."

"My pleasure, my dear lady," he replied, reaching down to retrieve her dagger from where it had fallen out of her grasp - wanting nothing more than to pull that hand to his lips as he handed it back to her. "Just remember. I have your back."

She smiled and nodded before turning to lead them back into the Pearl.


	2. Chapter 2

"Do you want to talk about it?" asked Wynne, taking a seat beside Zevran.

"Talk about what, my dear woman?" he replied, tearing his eyes away from the campfire's flames before turning to smile at the circle mage. "I am fine, I assure you."

"My bosom does not agree."

Zevran could not believe his ears. Surely the old woman was not taking him serious, finally, was she? "Pardon?"

"You have not spoken of my magical bosom in over a week," she said with a mischievous smile.

He hoped this was Wynne's attempt at humor, as he was not in the mood for a proposition.

"Nor have you chided Leilana about her two years of abstinence, or tried to break through Morrigan's shell with flattery, " she continued.

He barely heard her. Did he just tell himself he wasn't in the mood for a proposition? When did this come about? He was never **not** in the mood! Even Wynne would have been an interesting tumble. She was in fine form for a woman her age and he'd always enjoyed the ardor of mages; their libidos were as caged as their bodies and once they found freedom, it was always quite an enjoyable ride, so to speak. By the Maker, what was his problem?

And then his eyes lit on Kallian coming up from the stream where she'd obviously been bathing. He wanted her. Only her.

He'd thought about bedding Kallian countless times since the day she had spared his life. The fantasies usually started with that day and the wonderful view he'd had as he begged her not to kill him. Even through her armor, he could see firm thighs as he'd stared up the skirt of her breastplate and he'd wondered what it would be like to have those thighs wrapped around his waist as he buried himself deep within her.

Those fantasies hadn't changed, but they were now the only ones he had. That had never happened before. Not even with Rinna.

He'd been mindful of Kallian's struggle since she'd bared her soul to him back in Denerim and he'd left off the teasing and mindless flirtations, not wanting to contribute to her continued discomfort. That he'd done consciously. But the rest? He barely recognized who he was anymore.

"Very well," Wynne said getting to her feet. "I'll leave you to your fire. Just know I'm here if you need to talk."

Her movement caught Zevran's attention. But only just. "Oh! Umm… yes, my dear woman. Thank you," he said, standing up himself. His eyes were still on Kallian as he started towards her, never even noticing Wynne's departure.

A smile lit up her face as he approached and his heart skipped a beat. She was beautiful with her long auburn hair coiled up in braided buns, and her large dark green eyes that sparkled like diamonds when she was happy and burned like emerald fire when she was not. He could lose himself in those eyes if he wasn't careful. Who was he kidding? He already had.

"What did the old biddy want?" Kallian asked, once he reached her side.

"Nothing," he said quickly. And then stopped. "No, I will not lie to you, my dear Warden. She is concerned about my recent change of behavior."

Kallian nodded, as if she knew what had been on Wynne's mind. "I was going to go gather firewood; care to join me?"

It was an offer to talk and he knew it. But, unlike Wynne or Leilana, Kallian would not pry. She would simply give him an opening; whether he chose to use it or not would be up to him.

"By all means," he replied, shocking himself. Did he want to discuss this with her? How could he even begin? _'Look, I have a problem. I've lost all interest in sex since learning your secret.'_ Yeah, that would go over well. Not. And besides that wasn't true. He'd just lost all interest in sex with anyone but _her_ and he certainly couldn't tell her that. Although from the feel of his manhood swelling in his breeches just watching the sway of her hips as he followed her into the woods, he knew that for the absolute truth.

Once they were well away from camp she stopped and turned around. "You don't have to walk around on eggshells with me, Zevran."

He swallowed with difficulty, struggling to pull his mind away from his growing desire and focus on her words. "What do you mean, my friend?"

"You don't have change your behavior for fear of offending me. I know biting your tongue must be killing you."

"No," he said, taking a step closer to her. "What is killing me is being too afraid to show you how I feel… about you."

She looked up at him, perplexed. "What do you—"

His mouth was on hers, cutting off the rest of her words. He couldn't help it. The need for her was overwhelming.

She gasped and struggled at first, but his arms wrapped around her, locking her in a tight embrace as he guided her back against a tree. His kiss was hungry, needy. His lips bruised hers as he forced them apart, darting his tongue into her mouth, seeking her own.

Her struggles stopped. Her arms wrapped around his waist and her tongue sought out his in greedy abandon. He could feel her moan deep in her throat, sending a chill straight down his spine. There was nothing he wanted more than to take her, right here, right now. And he knew he could. He knew she would submit. But, was that what she really wanted? He didn't know and for the first time, that mattered more than his own wants and needs.

And so he pulled away. Maker's breath that was difficult. He reached down and found her hands, holding them in his as he pulled them from around his waist. He took a step back, not letting go of her hands and stared into her eyes.

"Do you want this?" he asked, barely able to speak.

She looked at him and he could see the pain and suffering from before, but he could also see desire in those pools of liquid emerald. His pulse quickened.

"Yes," she whispered, tugging on his hands, pulling him into her.

There was no more restraint. He was on her, in her, basking the warmth of her body.

He heard her gasp, felt her warmth spread, as ecstasy overcame her. That was it. The explosion that came after was the most intense feeling he had ever experienced. It was as if every past encounter had been a rehearsal for this one moment, with this one beautiful, fierce, wonderful woman.

Finally, it was done. He collapsed against her, his head resting in her bosom, feeling her heart race beneath that soft flesh. She stroked his hair and his scalp tingled, relishing the attention.

"Thank you," she whispered, leaning up to plant a soft kiss on the crown of his head.

He looked up at her, and nodded slowly. "No," he said. "It is I who should be thanking _you_. Never in all my experience, and as you well know that is no small thing, have I felt as you made me feel just now."

She blushed and then smiled coyly. "Well, perhaps we should test this again to determine whether or not this was a fluke."

Her words stirred his desire, amazing even him. He smiled back at her before leaning up for a kiss. "I am sure that can be arranged, mi amora."


End file.
